My Favorite Person
by SupernaturalMondler
Summary: Set during the flashback in TOW the Flashback. Monica's still upset about Phoebe moving out, Chandler knows her too well.


**Surprise! The next chapter or Not the Way We Planned It is still in the works, but I've spent a lot of time on public transportation this week, so I cranked this little thing out on my phone on the bus rides to and from class. It's set during the flashback in TOW the Flashback, later that night. Basically just some pre-Mondler floof because I'm absolute trash for them.**

Monica sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea cooking in her hands as she swirled it around, not really drinking it. It was late, and for the first time Monica was very aware that she lived alone. She didn't want to live alone, that's why she's put out an ad to begin with, but if she was such a terrible roommate that Phoebe could hardly stand to be around her, maybe loneliness was her fate.

She had the guys across the hall, obviously, but Chandler and Joey already seemed to have hit it off, so she had no doubt that the two of them would spend all their time together, once again leaving her on the outside. Phoebe was gone, had moved uptown with her grandmother and Ross had his own problems, now dealing with the imminent divorce from Carol. All she could hope was he would need her support during this time. How sad was she?

She hadn't stayed downstairs at the bar very long, wasn't really in the mood to socialise and be cheery at the moment, especially with Phoebe right there, so she had quietly and politely excused herself and gone upstairs to change into sweats and make herself a cup of tea. She hoped no one had noticed her downtrodden mood–she hated to be the one to bring the rest of the group down with her–but she was fairly certain that Chandler had been eyeing her carefully all night as a result of their interaction earlier in the evening.

She sighed and gave up on the tea, it was cold now anyways, and got up to pour it in the sink. As she did, there was a quick knock on the door– _please, not now_ –before it cracked open slowly.

"I was just about to head to bed," she said without turning around, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and leave her alone.

"You also said that an hour ago."

She didn't have to see his face to hear the teasing smile in Chandler's voice, and she sighed.

"I'm really not in the mood right now."

"I know," he responded, all traces of joking gone, and suddenly he was right next to her. "That's why I came to check on you."

Monica crossed her arms and glared up at him as best she could. "I don't need to be checked up on," she huffed. "Thank you, but I'm okay."

Chandler shrugged, and crossed the room to sit on the couch. "Then you won't mind joining me for a movie or something."

"You're infuriating," she told him, leaving her mug in the sink–she'd wash it when he left–and followed him to the seating area. "If you find something you want to watch, be my guest.

Chandler grinned triumphantly and grabbed the remote, pulling her down on the couch next to him when she tried to keep her distance by taking the arm chair. She slapped his hand away, but didn't bother moving as he switched the on TV. It was late, but not so late that news and informercials were the only things on, so Chandler settled on the end of a basketball game between teams that Monica didn't recognise. She sat stiffly next to him, still a bit annoyed that he felt the need to check up on her, and uncomfortable because, well, he had been right.

"Stop thinking," Chandler said, not looking away from the TV, though Monica was fairly certain he didn't actually care about this game either.

"Not gonna happen," Monica responded flatly. Chandler poked at her side.

"I'm serious, Mon," he said, clearly trying to get her to smile or something. She wouldn't admit that it was sort of working. "Whatever you're worrying about, it's not true."

"How do you know I'm worrying about something?" she challenged.

"I can read your mind," he waggled his fingers in her face and she had to laugh a bit at that. "Monica, look at me," he instructed, suddenly serious. "No one's leaving you behind. Just because Phoebe moved out and I got a roommate doesn't mean we'll all hang out any less, okay? You're still my best friend, that won't change."

Monica huffed out a soft laugh and shook her head fondly. For all the stupid crap Chandler said on a daily basis, he somehow always said the exact right thing when it mattered. She didn't say anything, didn't know what to say, but she knew Chandler understood because it did seem like he could read her mind at times. He smiled down at her and she smiled back, kissing him affectionately on the cheek. He wrapped his arm loosely around her shoulder to pull her closer to his side, and this time she went easily, resting her head on his shoulder.

She felt so lucky to have this, to have a friend she could just _be_ with the way she could with Chandler. Everything about them was easy, and comfortable, and she knew that there was nothing in the world that could take this from them. The game continued on in front of them, but Monica wasn't watching at all, and she didn't think Chandler was either, they just sat there in silence, close together in a way that felt so incredibly natural, just like their hug earlier in the evening.

Monica soon felt her eyes growing heavy–it was getting late, after all–but she was too comfortable to move, so she just sunk deeper into his side and allowed her eyes to close. She felt Chandler tighten his arm around her shoulders as if to say _it's okay, I've got you_ and she smiled a bit at that. He pressed a light kiss to the top of her head and she reciprocated with one on his shoulder.

Just as she started to doze off for real, she heard Chandler whisper, "You're always gonna be my favorite, don't you worry about that" and Monica at once felt at complete peace. Roommate or not, she would be fine. Phoebe was still just uptown, Ross needed her more than ever, they had a new member of their gang in Joey, and Chandler, well...

Chandler would be right across the hall as always, there to be her shoulder to cry on when she needed it, there to give advice in a way that only he could, there to tease and mock and annoy and get it back just as good as she gave it, there to spend time with _every day_ because somehow they never got sick of each other. Having Chandler there was the best thing of all because, if she was honest, he was her favorite person too.

 **Let me know what you think of this! I'm totally accepting prompts for more little Mondler drabbles because, like I said, I spend a lot of time on public transportation. Also stay tuned for the next chapter of NTWWPI sometime soon!**


End file.
